#sisila sila

[weatheredpileoftomes]

served ice cold

For FFXIVWrite Day 9, “fair”. Sisila, early Heavensward and then early post-Heavensward, spoilers through 3.0 and for dark knight quests through 50, ~400 words. Canonical character death, references to torture, grief, godtier bad coping mechanisms, implied murder.

It isn’t fair.

“What do you mean Lord Drillemont tortures people?” Sisila demands.

The fire snaps. It’s a warm spot in these horrible, cold, grey, miserable halls, and she’s grateful for it, but—Lord Drillemont is a knight. She doesn’t—he can’t just—

Haurchefant sighs. “Unfortunately, he is…not a good man.”

That’s an understatement.

“And he surrounds himself with many of the same, I fear.”

But…torture. Torture. That’s not right, even for enemies of the state—you kill people, you don’t hurt them.

Sisila opens her mouth to protest, then closes it again. She trusts Haurchefant. That’s supposed to be part of what being in love means, isn’t it? And…even if it isn’t, she doesn’t have anything else left. She was supposed to protect Nanamo, she’d sworn oaths, and Nanamo got poisoned while Sisila watched. Raubahn is probably dead too, and Sisila couldn’t even avenge him. If Haurchefant thinks there’s nothing they can do about a lord killing people, if they can’t gather a rescue army and ride in banners flying…

Maybe it isn’t an era for banners.

Haurchefant wipes the tears gently from her face, and Sisila realizes she’s been crying. “We do what we can here,” he says, and she nods.

*

Someone mentions Lord Drillemont on a clear, bright morning near the start of winter, and Sisila suddenly remembers his basement. They said he tortures people to madness, with or without proof of their heresy. And his guards—they do all that for him. They should have stopped him.

“We can stop them now,” Fray says in her ear.

Her voice is low and dark, something that tugs at Sisila’s wounds. “Stop them how?”

Fray shrugs with a clank of plate. “How else? You have the sword.”

She’s right. It isn’t fair that a good man lies dead beneath the snow while so many bad ones are still walking around. It isn’t right that Haurchefant, who always tried to be the best of knights, who gave Sisila something to believe in for months when she had nothing else, was killed, and Lord Drillemont and his men are allowed to ruin others’ lives.

If everyone else is too afraid to stop them, she’ll do it.

“Good,” Fray whispers, and the world goes black with rage.

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #my fic #my fic: sisila #my fic: sisila: gen #my fic: sisila: ship #it's kinda both. you know how it is. #my fic: 3.x #sisila sila #sisila x haurchefant #fray esteem #hashbrown hours

[nomyklon]

RUHUMDA SIZI SOLFEJ

DİNLE DİNLE DOYMADIĞIMIZ TÜRKÜMÜZ

NOTALARIYLA BURDA

3 kez

dorere Mİ mimi Mİ mimi Mİ

fare re fami mimi re reredo

dodo  si sisi la la

 dorere rerere rerere reredo

domire re redo do dosi si

sidoresi dosi redo dodosi sisila la

lasidola sila dosi sisila la

fasolla sila

dorere rerere rerere reredo

domire remiredo doredosi si

sidoresi dosi redo dodosi sisila la

lasidola sila dosi sisila la

fasolla sila    

[ultranotafan-blog]

Zembîlfiroş Notaları - Şivan Perwer

Zembîlfiroş Notaları – Şivan Perwer

Zembîlfiroş Notaları

re solsolsol miremi redo mirere reresol redodo si redodo domimi do silala dosisi doreresi silado sila lalala lalala la

fasolla lalala dosi lalala sidola solfasol mimirere doremi mimimi mimirere reresol redodo si redodo domimi do sisila dosisi doreresi silado sila lalala lalala la

View On WordPress

[weatheredpileoftomes]

crack’d from side to side

For FFxivWrite2022 Day 1, “cross”. Sisila gen-ish, Heavensward postgame, ~400 words. 3.0 spoilers; bad coping mechanisms, grief, referenced major character death.

Fray makes a persuasive argument.

“They should know better than to cross you,” Fray murmurs.

Sisila shakes her head. She agrees with Fray most of the time. She’s grateful to Fray for teaching her, for listening to her, for giving her the skills she needs to get her revenge. For understanding her when nobody else seems to.

But.

“It’s not about me,” she says.

Funny that once she’d wanted it to be. The Warrior of Light, the Hero of Eorzea. She’d thought if she could just earn people’s respect everything else would fall into place.

Zephirin had respected her enough to try to kill her. Her, not Aymeric or Estinien. The Lord Commander, or the Azure Dragoon, or plain Sisila Sila from bloody Cactus Bend, and he hadn’t even hesitated. What good is that kind of respect?

Fray smooths a stray lock of hair away from Sisila’s face, and Sisila flinches back.

It’s not the cold. The leather palm-side of Fray’s gauntlets holds no chill. It’s the gentleness of the touch, even through the armor—a knight’s hands tender on her skin again.

“Don’t touch me.” Sisila’s voice is too high, too thin against the desert night. She wants to lean into Fray’s hand. It terrifies her in a way nothing else has since before they stormed the Vault. “Don’t touch me.”

Fray looks at her steadily. Her eyes are bright as stars, bright enough to light Sisila up however deep the night is. There’s nowhere to hide.

“One rule,” Sisila manages, her throat tight with pain and rage and this new fear. “Just one. I do everything else you say. Don’t touch me.”

“You’ll do everything else I say anyway.” It would have been frightening if Fray had sounded…different…too, but she sounds the same as always. It just makes Sisila angrier. “Who else understands the harm the Holy See has done like I do? Who else knows how much you’re hurting? Everyone else who watched you weep gave you meaningless words. I gave you a sword, Sisila. Who else has done that?”

Sisila whispers, “Nobody.” She almost hopes Fray won’t hear.

But Fray nods and holds out her hand, palm out. “Listen to my voice,” she says, same as always.

Same as always, Sisila reaches back.

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2022 #my fic #my fic: sisila #my fic: sisila: gen #my fic: sisila: ship #my fic: 3.x #sisila sila #fray esteem #sisila x haurchefant #sisila x fray

[weatheredpileoftomes]

paint it black

For Wondrous Tails of FFXIV, “sharing clothes”. Post-Heavensward, ~450 words. Spoilers through the end of 3.0; major character death, grief, poor coping mechanisms.

Sisila makes a request.

The law means nothing. Justice is a lie.

Fray is right, Sisila thinks. All that’s left is punishing the guilty before they can leave anyone else like this.

She curls her hand around the soul crystal. It feels nothing like her paladin’s crystal, the one she’d been so stupidly proud of. This one is spiked like holly, with sharp edges that prick at her skin even through her calluses. There’s no smooth place to hold it.

Fair enough.

Sisila stares down at the shield. She can’t even say it tore like paper—it didn’t. The metal has melted around the edges of the hole, bubbled and reset. Still, what good is it? Even all in one piece, what good did it do?

We have no need of shields figurative or literal, Fray had said. Her sword was more than double Sisila’s height, too big to swing. Sisila wants to learn, wants Fray to teach her how to use this power of darkness in the hopes that it’ll do something, but she’s just too bloody short even for that.

She looks up at Edmont. “I want his sword.”

Edmont looks taken aback. “His…sword? Sisila, I… It would be my honor to give you anything he would have wished, but…”

Sisila sets her jaw and looks up at him. She hasn’t cried in almost a week; she doesn’t know why Edmont winces when he meets her eyes. “I want his sword,” she says again.

“It is hardly sized for you.” Edmont’s voice is a strange kind of gentle. “If you were to try to use it, to honor him, and were wounded or killed—how could I meet him in Halone’s halls knowing I had let that happen to you, and with his blade?”

“I’m not going to get killed.” Sisila wants to scream. She isn’t sure how she isn’t screaming. “Please. I just—I just want it.”

Edmont closes his eyes in pain, but when he opens them again he rings for a servant. “Please be careful,” he tells Sisila.

Haurchefant’s sword looks nothing like the one Fray carries, or like the black leather and dark metal of Fray’s spiky armor. The angelic wings unfold from the gleaming blade to make a crossguard. It’s so bright.

But the grip is solid between her hands when she picks it up two-handed, holding it the way she saw Fray do. The length is about right, when she swings it.

She straps it onto her back and heads back to the Brume, leaving her shield behind.

#just a drk kind of day apparently #i have a playlist for sisila and the genre shift when “paint it‚ black” kicks in…mwah #wondroustailsofffxiv #wondroustailsofffxivwriting #my fic #my fic: sisila #my fic: sisila: ship #my fic: 3.0 #my fic: 3.x #sisila sila #edmont de fortemps #sisila x haurchefant

[weatheredpileoftomes]

starry-eyed

For FFxivWrite2021 Day 16, “crane”. Early ARR, no spoilers beyond that, ~750 words.

This will be something for Sisila to write home about.

Fighting mysterious mages and terrible monsters in defense of the sultana’s honor and the stability of Ul’dah, only to have a handsome and mysterious stranger—all right, Thancred isn’t a stranger to Sisila specifically any more, but he plays the role so well—come to her aid before vanishing again even more mysteriously after they triumphed is…perfect.

The terrible monster had been fairly terrible, she won’t lie about that, but they had managed to defeat it easily enough. None of the Sultansworn had been killed, or even seriously injured. Sisila herself isn’t hurt, either, beyond a few bruises.

She has no idea what Thancred was talking about with the Bringers of Chaos, but, well, this one didn’t manage to bring that much chaos, after all.

Everyone back in Cactus Bend told her it wouldn’t be anything like this, Sisila thinks smugly as she makes sure to get the last of the black-purple ooze off her sword. It can’t be good for the metal, and Mylla will scold her for not taking care of her gear if she doesn’t.

“You’re going to go to the city to become famous? More like you’ll go to the city hoping to become famous and end up slinging plates in a tavern.”

Hmph.

“You really think you’re going to make a name for yourself as a gladiator? If you’re lucky, you’ll leave scarred-up and maybe a little richer, but it’s still better than being welcomed home early to Thal’s halls.”

Again: hmph.

“You want adventure, Sisila? You’re eighteen, not eight. What next after you become the second gladiator in Ul’dah to launch yourself into society, kill a dragon? Marry a prince?”

Well, it’s not a faerie tale, it’s real and it’s her life. Hmph.

There aren’t any dragons—Sisila is all right with that, really, she’s not sure she knows how to kill a dragon yet—and she’s also not sure where she’d even find a prince, or a princess for that matter, if she did want to marry one, but. There was a mission, and she was the one entrusted with it, and she carried it out! Successfully! Papashan has the sultana’s crown right now, and they’re bringing it back before anyone else even knows it’s missing.

The trip back to Ul’dah is jubilant; the meeting with the Sultansworn is triumphant. Sisila’s jaw drops when she sees the sultana, who looks and sounds an awful lot like that Lady Lilira Papashan had been so worried about—she’s met the sultana. She’s defended the sultana in battle! Herself!

(Her Grace Nanamo ul Namo, forever may she reign, goes around Thanalan disguised as a normal girl, and the people at Cactus Bend thought Sisila was inventing faerie tales?)

Behind the sultana is Flame General Raubahn Aldynn. When the sultana calls him forward Sisila has to tip her head back until her neck aches to get a good look at him. He’s so tall, and so…she doesn’t know how to explain it, but the whole room steadies when he comes in. It’s not just that he’s taller than practically any two other people here standing on each other’s shoulders, it’s just…something. No wonder he leads the Immortal Flames so well, through fire and disaster.

Sisila is ready to pick up her shield again and follow him into the seventh hell itself, if he tells her to.

Instead what he does is…introduce himself. Thank her for what she’s done. Say Ul’dah is in her debt, which she had been telling herself but hadn’t really honestly expected to hear from anyone else, let alone Flame General Aldynn. He calls her bravery a blessing.

Sisila tries to look calm and tough, as if what she did was all in a day’s work, but what she wants to do is jump up and down shrieking with excitement. Her face hurts from grinning.

He and the sultana both smile back at her before they leave.

Sisila is going to be the sultana’s personal guest at a banquet. She’s going to get to dine and talk with her and Flame General Aldynn. They’re both impressed with her.

Take that, Cactus Bend, Sisila thinks, and goes to speak with Papashan again with a skip in her step.

#ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #my fic #my fic: sisila #my fic: sisila: gen #my fic: 2.0 #sisila sila #raubahn aldynn #nanamo ul namo

[weatheredpileoftomes]

masking

Make-up entry for FFxivWrite2021 Day 29, “debonair”. Mildly Sisila/Thancred, mid-A Realm Reborn, mild spoilers through like…lv 27 MSQ?, ~350 words. Reference to canonical minor character deaths. This is…a fragment of a larger piece but something something deadlines.

Something seems to be bothering Thancred.

Thancred has been too quiet since Sisila arrived at the Waking Sands. He wasn’t personal in front of Minfilia and the others last time, but she hadn’t expected him to be, and he was still charming as ever. This time he’s quiet, withdrawn, without a joke or a glittering compliment for anyone.

It’s strange. It’s not right, and Sisila doesn’t approve. It isn’t even just that he looks tired, though he does, or that she likes it when he’s charming, though she definitely does. It’s that…she doesn’t know.

He wasn’t even like this when he had to tell her that the Immortal Flames who’d been captured and taken in front of Ifrit with her had been killed. This time he’s just…she doesn’t know, gone inside his own head or something, and it doesn’t seem like he likes whatever he’s thinking about. Which is…not frightening, there’s no reason to be frightened, but concerning, given the things that he and the rest of the Scions have to think about all the time.

Sisila is…still getting used to that part. She hadn’t really thought that she was going to be facing gods, maybe plural, in battle. She hadn’t expected that there’d be people she wouldn’t be able to do anything at all to save. She’ll have to be faster if it ever happens again, is all, between Ifrit and the youths of Little Ala Mhigo, but she’s not used to having to be that fast.

Thancred is, and he’s still barely saying anything.

After the meeting, she finds him sitting in the hall instead of any of the common rooms, his elbows propped on his knees as he stares into the distance. That’s not right either—usually he knows how he looks, and stands or sits so other people can notice too.

“Thancred?”

He turns slowly to look at her. “Oh. Hello, Sisila. I’ve just been thinking over my investigations.”

She wants to tell him to think over them less, if they’re making him look and sound like this, but of course she can’t. Of course she wouldn’t, anyway, that’s not the heroic thing to do.

The heroic thing to do is harder than she thought it would be.

#we've discovered the real reason i gposed there when i hit this in msq two days ago #ACTUAL SCREENSHOT ACCOMPANIMENT FOR ONCE #ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #my fic #my fic: sisila #my fic: sisila: ship #my fic: 2.0 #my screenshots #my screenshots: sisila #sisila sila #thancred waters #sisila x thancred

[weatheredpileoftomes]

refining

For FFxivWrite2021 Day 18, “devil’s advocate”. Assorted points during A Realm Reborn, mild gsm 1-15ish spoilers, ~650 words. I have got to stop leaving these things to the last minute.

Making jewelry is harder than Sisila thought and this mammet is very rude.

“TeRrIbLe,” Gigi pronounces, staring at the copper rings Sisila is trying to make. They don’t want to be round, but also she didn’t ask for Gigi’s opinion. He isn’t her guildmaster.

“Oh, Gigi, be nice.” Serendipity sounds so tired. “Let me…oh, hmm. Oh dear.”

The gorget Serendipity had had her make had been easy, because all she had to do was thread some plates onto a leather cord so they looked pretty. Sisila looks at the latest wobbly hook she’s made instead of a neat circle, squares her shoulders, and tries again.

• • •

“GiVe Me ThAt OtHeR fAnG sO i MaY gOuGe My EyEs OuT wItH iT.”

Sisila jumps and drops her pliers. She wishes she were, well, a little taller, maybe. Just a little! She doesn’t really want to be a hyur, all gangly limbs and awkward balance, but it would be nice if Gigi had to look up at her.

“ThAt EaRrInG iS eXeCrAbLe.” Gigi bursts into chittering laughter. “No BeTtEr ThAn He DeSeRvEs.”

She isn’t quite sure what “execrable” means, but from the way Gigi is laughing she doesn’t think it’s good. Also, the earring is not bad. She was able to pierce the fang neatly and pretty much through the center, and she thinks she’s doing a very nice job with the wire wrapping. “It’s a perfectly good earring,” Sisila says, glaring.

Gigi’s eyes dim and brighten, like a slow blink. “EhEhE…iS iT?”

Sisila stares at the earring. She thinks it is. She won’t know if the beneficial enhancements will work until she’s finished the pair, of course. And the choker. “Go away, Gigi.”

It’s a commission. If the Sultansworn are impressed with her crafting as well as her swordwork, she doesn’t want to disappoint! And if Robert keeps coming back to ask for things, maybe he or Serendipity will get brave enough to ask the other one to dinner like they both clearly want to. This is important work and Sisila does not need a mammet judging her.

Maybe she should say something to Robert? Passing his fondest regards on to Serendipity doesn’t seem to have done anything—oh, blast it, she twisted the wire too hard and broke the fang.

No more worrying about Serendipity. Sisila picks up the spare fang, the one that Gigi had wanted to gouge his eyes out with, and a fine awl. This earring will be better than the last, and the second one will be better too.

• • •

“TaWdRy,” Gigi sneers.

Sisila ignores him. The wind shards and her grinding wheel are smoothing the malachite from a dull lump into something glimmering green, swirled with light and dark.

“AmAtEuRiSh!”

The malachite takes on a teardrop shape as she turns it. She doesn’t like this part of making jewelry, the messy parts with rocks and ores and smelting and grinding, but she doesn’t like practicing her sword swings on training dummies either.

And when she’s done, it’ll be that much easier to make good jewelry, when she gets to play with the beads and wires and hooks that look so pretty when they’re arranged well together. Maybe little silver beads on top of the malachite? Oh, or below—

“ArE yOu EvEn LiStEnInG? iNsOlEnT aPpReNtIcE!”

Sisila finishes off the malachite drop and starts the next. Definitely silver beads, unless Serendipity tells her not to, but also Serendipity did leave it up to her own judgment. What if she alternated silver beads with smaller malachite ones? Or…danburite, maybe?

“VeRy WeLl. I lEaVe YoU tO yOuR fOlLy. ThAt BeAd Is…HmPh.”

Sisila is halfway finished with the second bead before she realizes Gigi forgot to insult her again. Maybe she really is getting the hang of this.

#ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #my fic #my fic: sisila #my fic: sisila: gen #my fic: 2.0 #sisila sila #gigi #gsm squad ensemble

[weatheredpileoftomes]

mettle

Make-up entry for FFxivWrite2021 Day 4, “baleful”. Early-to-mid-A Realm Reborn, no additional spoilers (do gld quest spoilers count?), about 850 words.

A paladin is never afraid, but Sisila isn’t a paladin just yet.

Southern Thanalan is…very big. Sisila supposes you could say the same for any of the rest of Thanalan, but she grew up in a village near Hammerlea, with the hammers constantly making their awful noises to one side and the Silver Bazaar on the other. There were, well, people.

Here, once she’s left Little Ala Mhigo, it’s just…her, and the night, and the sand that swallows up Star’s footsteps.

She squares her shoulders, feeling the reassuring clank of her armor as she does. Well, it doesn’t matter if it is just her and Star, and the night, and the sand. Jenlyns wouldn’t have told her to go kill these undead monsters if he didn’t think it could be done, which means she can do it. She’ll just…go to the ruins, light the brazier, bring back her trophies, and then—

And then she’ll be a paladin, already! She had thought it would take years and years of hard work, but she’s been so lucky already. The sultana herself has recognized Sisila. Flame General Aldynn has recognized Sisila.

Immortal Flame Sisila Sila, slayer of Ifrit, Scion of the Seventh Dawn, afraid of a few undead? Not likely.

The ruins loom up against the huge expanse of the sky. The moon just barely picks out the edges of broken rock; Sisila sees them more for the space where the stars suddenly aren’t than for where the ruins themselves actually are.

“Kweh?”

Sisila pats Star’s neck. “Ssh.” She doesn’t actually know for sure if chocobos like their necks patted to reassure them—she’s never had one before last moon—but it’s all of Star she can really reach.

Star shuffles but goes quiet, which is all Sisila really needed. They’re…still working on combat training. She knows she can train Star, she’s talked to that man at Bentbranch Meadows about how to do it, but she’s, well, not very good at being patient. Being patient doesn’t get you anywhere, is the problem, except right now when maybe it actually would.

All right. The ruins. Probably she shouldn’t bring Star in with her, just in case, which means she’ll be going in alone. They look very dark.

She wishes she’d asked Thancred for advice. He probably knows what to do about this kind of thing, and she could have used the company.

It’s fine, though! Probably it won’t be nearly as bad as the Sepulchre was. That had been an emergency, after all, not a planned test. Sisila had been happy to be able to help Mylla out, and prove that an innocent man had been falsely accused, but it would have been really nice to have had a little more time to prepare and maybe some help.

(She still can’t believe that Aldis left. If Mylla weren’t trying so hard to pretend she didn’t care, Sisila would have gone after him and dragged him back by the knee if she had to. What kind of an ending to a tale was that, anyway.)

But this is just…a test. No twisty caves full of Corpse Brigade soldiers, no people she has to kill at all, just a monster. Or maybe two? Jenlyns had said “monsters,” so maybe two. Almost definitely not more than three.

Immortal Flame Paladin Sisila Sila. She likes the sound of it. Okay, then. She’ll just…get off of Star and go up into the ruins. It’ll be fine.

Paladins are fearless, and Sisila misses not having met anything really dangerous enough to be scared of—well, famine, obviously, and disease, and the Hammers coming for their village or even their neighbors’. When she’s famous and respected enough she can just tell them to go somewhere else where nobody’s already trying to make a living, and they’ll have to listen to her.

Probably.

Maybe.

The sultana seems so caring, is the problem. It can’t be as if she doesn’t know about the Hammers, or that people live there. And if even the sultana with Flame General Aldynn’s help can’t—no, that’s silly.

And if she somehow does need more help than she has, Sisila will just have to stop standing around outside the ruins like a baby, go kill some undead, get her soul crystal, and become the best paladin in all of Thanalan. No, all of Eorzea.

Right, then. Sisila jumps down off of Star, whistles the command to stay—Star does know that one, at least—and heads into the ruins. Her shield is a solid weight at her back, her sword is in easy reach, and her tinderbox is in her pocket.

Immortal Flame Paladin Sisila Sila, wearer of the Voice of the Just, defender of Ul’dah. Yes. Good.

#ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #my fic #my fic: sisila #my fic: sisila: gen #my fic: 2.0 #sisila sila

[ultranotafan-blog]

Çağatay Akman Yüreğim Davacı Notaları

Çağatay Akman Yüreğim Davacı Notaları

Çağatay Akman Yüreğim Davacı Do Re Mi Notaları rere sire rere sila lala sol la sila solsol rere sire rere sisila lala lasol la sila solsol rere sire rere sila lala sol la sila solsol rere sire rere sila lala sol la sila solsol rere sire rere sila lala sol la sila solsol rere sire rere sila lala sol la sila solsol sol misol solsol mire mirere re resi rere re sire sila si la silare sisi lala sol…

View On WordPress

#Çağatay Akman Yüreğim Davacı Bağlama notaları #Çağatay Akman Yüreğim Davacı Do Re Mi Notaları #Çağatay Akman Yüreğim Davacı flüt notaları #Çağatay Akman Yüreğim Davacı Gitar Notaları #Çağatay Akman Yüreğim Davacı Melodika Notaları #Çağatay Akman Yüreğim Davacı Saz Notaları